


Good First Impression

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [69]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 11:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: Jared just — he wants them to like him. Elaine seems to, and she’s the most important person in the world to Bryce, Jared knows that, but he wants them to like him too.





	Good First Impression

Bryce wakes him up way too early on Christmas morning, but it’s with a slightly minty kiss and a cup of coffee, so he’s forgiven, even though he doesn’t let Jared change out of his PJs before going downstairs. 

“Christmas morning tradition,” Bryce says. “Presents in PJs.”

Jared groans, but takes himself and his stupid pyjamas and his coffee down to the living room, sipping it while Bryce lugs one of his suitcases downstairs, and reveals it’s completely full of gifts, mostly for Elaine, which go under the tree, and his grandparents, which he stacks by the door. More than a few for Jared go under the tree as well, but Jared can tell he was trying to be moderate, which means there are only way too many for him, instead of an absurd amount, like there is for Elaine. 

“Bryce,” she says, chiding, when the tower of presents for her threatens to topple over if Bryce adds one more thing, but it’s a chiding like she’s used to it, had that discussion with him before, and has since given up. Jared sympathises. 

“They’re just little things,” Bryce says, which Jared bets is emphatically untrue.

Elaine snorts, so she agrees with him on that.

They are not just little things. Bryce insists on a present opening rotation, even though he has way less presents than Elaine and even Jared, and Jared would probably be more flustered by the presents Bryce has gotten him — some nice game day ties, another suit, this one charcoal grey, a watch that’s pretty muted, definitely not as flashy as some Bryce owns, but that Jared’s afraid to look up the retail cost of — except he like, showers Elaine with stuff, and it’s blatantly _really fancy_ stuff, so. Elaine’s always been well-dressed, well put-together when Jared’s seen her, and now he’s wondering if Bryce is catering to how she’s always dressed, or if it’s stuff he got her.

Jared would be more embarrassed by his own offerings if Bryce didn’t genuinely light up when he opens the sweater Jared got him, demand his mom feel how soft it is, which she does with a slightly indulgent smile.

“There’s also — I couldn’t bring it, but I got a print of the sunflowers? Like you guys have here. I thought we could put it in the kitchen so it’s more like home or something,” Jared says.

Apparently Bryce got that beaming grin from Elaine, because they’re wearing identical ones right now.

Jared tapped his mom for Elaine present advice, and he kind of thought a pair of leather gloves was too impersonal when his mom suggested it, but he doesn’t actually know enough about Elaine’s like, hobbies or whatever to _be_ personal, and he didn’t want to lean on Bryce for it. She seems to like the them at least, opens them with a laugh Jared doesn’t understand until he’s opening gloves and a hat from her, as is Bryce. They’re in different colours at least. No more couple matching after today. The only time Jared wants to be wearing the exact same thing as Bryce is if that means neither of them’s wearing anything.

Bryce puts on the sweater Jared got him before they go, and while Elaine gets ready Jared confirms it is exactly as soft against his cheek as it was under his fingers. Perfect cuddling sweater has been found. Elaine’s wearing the gloves Jared got her when they head out, even though it’s hovering around zero, so Jared’s feeling pretty pleased with himself, all in all.

Bryce’s grandparents aren’t in Richmond, but it’s not a long drive, all deserted streets until they pull up to a house that, well — if Jared could describe a house as cute, it’d be this one. Jared hadn’t been nervous on the drive over, but getting out of the car he starts to feel it, and he doesn’t know if Bryce senses that or not, but he brushes his knuckles against Jared’s as they walk up to the porch, too often to be accidental. Jared just — he wants them to like him. Elaine seems to, and she’s the most important person in the world to Bryce, Jared knows that, but he wants them to like him too.

The woman who answers the door totally reminds Jared that Bryce — or Elaine via Bryce — described them as hippies, long grey hair halfway down her back, chunky jewelry, a skirt more suited for summer, light and flowy and patterned.

“Gail,” Elaine says, before kissing Bryce’s grandmother — nana? — on the cheek, and Jared wonders if they’re _that_ hippie, the kind that like, makes their kids call them by their first names. If Jared called his mom Susan, vengeance would be hers. He did call his dad Don once. It didn’t go well.

“Come in, come in, Gordie’s just in the kitchen,” Bryce’s nana says, and Jared shuffles in after Bryce and Elaine, looks around as Gail hugs Bryce.

“Look at you,” Gail says to Jared when she lets Bryce go, and Jared’s already going red. ‘Look at you’ always leads to mortifying statements.

“You’re even more handsome than Elaine said,” Gail says, confirming that, “BJ, you’ve got a rival now.”

Oh god, Bryce’s nana calls him BJ, why didn’t Bryce _tell_ him that? Jared’s blowjob jokes all feel dirty now, and like…not in the hot way they did before.

“Nah, he wins, hands down,” Bryce says.

Jared can’t hold back an audible snort, which is also mortifying, but like, who is Bryce kidding? Jared’s got a breakout on his chin, he is _definitely_ currently rocking the blotch, and there’s Bryce leaning against the banister, looking like he’s modeling for like, some brand that wants to scream ‘casually elegant’ but mostly just screams ‘expensive as fuck’. Jared is never looking up how much any of Bryce’s clothes cost again, it literally gave him anxiety to see that not only are there such things as thousand dollar sweaters — which Jared like, knew, but didn’t really know _real people_ wore — but that Jared had spilled coffee on one last month, and Bryce had just shrugged like it was no big deal. At least Jared knows this sweater wasn’t a grand? 

“Gordie,” Gail calls, then, “For god’s sake, I swear he can’t cook and hear at the same time,” wandering out of the hall as Bryce and Elaine start stripping off their coats, Jared following suit. 

Gordie is, apparently, a giant, so maybe that’s where Bryce gets his height from, because it’s certainly not Elaine, and Gail’s maybe average height. He shakes Jared’s hand with a surprising gentle handshake, considering he’s got hands like dinner plates, crushes Bryce into a hug that isn’t gentle at all. Bryce is grinning into it, so Jared guesses no bones have been broken.

They settle in the living room, but Gordie disappears into the kitchen after about two minutes to check on the food, Elaine following him in when he calls for his sous-chef, and Gail asks where Bryce and Jared met.

It’s weird like — talking about their relationship. Like, in general, since Jared can count on his fingers how many people know they’re in a relationship, but also like, Jared’s parents found out…dramatically, and presumably Bryce gave Elaine the history but Jared wasn’t there for it, and Raf figured out via simple deduction, and it’s just. Weird.

Really nice though. Jared suspects he wouldn’t usually enjoy talking about it, but right now, just simply answering Gail’s follow up ‘how long have you been together?’ question, like, he doesn’t know. Like a normal couple? It feels good.

Bryce didn’t seem as happy about it, had an anxious expression on his face the second she asked where they met, but he’s settling by degrees, like he’s getting that she doesn’t care. Or like, that she does, she’s his nana, but that she clearly doesn’t care that it’s Jared Bryce is dating, because if she does? She isn’t showing a single sign of it.

Even so, Jared starts to squirm a little when she starts talking about like, ‘their future’, as if Jared isn’t eighteen, in this nebulous space where he doesn’t know if he’s living in Calgary, or Bakersfield, or Edmonton this time next year, and even if that wasn’t the case, Bryce could be traded at any moment, his contract only a limited no-trade clause that lets him pick some places he doesn’t want to go. Hell, Jared could be traded without every actually playing a game for Edmonton. It’s not exactly likely, in either case — Calgary would be out of their _minds_ to trade their top goal-scorer, and Edmonton just signed Jared — but the thing about playing in the NHL, or like, potentially playing it in the future, is that there’s zero certainty. Jared does his best not to think about it, break down all the scenarios, because it makes him anxious, so he finds himself asking where the bathroom is.

There’s a picture on the wall in the hallway of Gail and Gordie with a young man that looks like the spitting image of Bryce. Jared would have assumed it was him, except Gail and Gordie look at least twenty years younger in it, so it’s got to be Bryce’s dad. Jared doesn’t know why he just assumed when Bryce was talking about his nana and papa, he was talking about Elaine’s parents, but he did, and it’s weirdly shocking to him that they’re his dad’s parents. Like, obviously they weren’t going to lose touch with their four-year-old grandson after their son died. That makes zero sense. Jared just somehow didn’t see Bryce and Elaine still spending holidays with them almost twenty years later, but obviously he was wrong.

For some reason Jared feels even more like he needs their approval now, and it doesn’t make sense, really, but — maybe it’s because he can’t get any from Bryce’s dad, and they’re the closest thing. He’s never had a job interview before, but coaching himself through like, good answers in his head while he washes his hands in the bathroom, he wonders if it’s kind of like that, hoping they ask the questions you thought up the perfect answer for, hoping you don’t get stumped, or asked a question that highlights your inadequacies.

Elaine’s back in the living room when Jared returns, and for some reason that’s a giant relief, especially since Gail’s asking her about work — Jared has absolutely no idea what she does and is kind of embarrassed about that — and he can just sit down and be quiet. Rehearse some more possible answers in his head.

He gets interrupted by Bryce’s hand nudging his, pulling it between the small gap between their thighs before threading his fingers through Jared’s, and Jared rehearses absolutely zero answers, doesn’t figure out what it is Elaine’s job is, because for the first time ever, Bryce is holding his hand out in the open. And yeah, it’s his mom, his grandmother, people he clearly trusts, but — 

Bryce squeezes a little, and Jared squeezes back. 

*

Mid-afternoon, Gail and Elaine break out the drinks — Jared takes a beer, even though he’s not actually a big beer fan, because Bryce did, and because he knows he’ll drink it slow, doesn’t want to ruin the whole ‘make the entire Marcus family like me’ by getting tipsy — and the kitchen starts smelling awesome. Elaine keeps flitting in and out of the kitchen, helping Gordie with the food, and when she calls ‘twenty minutes’, Jared goes out onto the front porch to call his mom.

“I’m at Bryce’s grandparents’ right now, so,” Jared says. “Can’t talk long, it’d be rude.”

“Because I’m not at your grandma’s right now,” his mom says dryly.

“Yeah, but she’s _my_ grandma,” Jared says. “It’s different. I’m a guest or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” his mom says. “Things are good?”

“Pretty good,” Jared says. “I like them. Wish everyone a merry Christmas except Erin?”

“I’m wishing her it too,” his mom says.

“Rude,” Jared says.

“Merry Christmas, honey,” his mom says. “I’d give you to your dad, but he’s currently arguing about something stupid with your uncle Don.”

Ah, the Don rivalry. The Duelling Dons. Jared has learned that siblings should never marry people with identical names, because then apparently they have to battle to be The Best One.

“Erin’s banned from dating anyone named Bryce,” Jared says.

“I’ll let her know,” his mom says. “After I wish her a merry Christmas from you.”

“Rude,” Jared repeats, and she just laughs at him.

The table in the kitchen’s set with more food than five people can eat, even when two of them are hockey players, but Gordie does his damnedest to make sure it disappears anyway.

“You need to eat, BJ,” Gordie says, when Bryce only fills like, the majority of his plate. Jared tries not to visibly wince. He needs a new name for Bryce in his phone. “You’re too thin.”

“Season,” Bryce says, and he is probably a good ten pounds lighter than he was this summer, but he still outweighs Jared by a significant margin. Gordie, at least, is too kind to say so, but he does keep pushing the serving plates Jared’s way whenever Jared clears any space on his plate, and the food is _really good_ , so Jared is distinctly lethargic when they finally get up from the table. 

They have Irish coffees after, which kind of fights that, because coffee, but also kind of doesn’t, because whiskey, so Jared’s body is distinctly confused about whether it’s wired time or nap time when they settle back in the living room, with the addition of Gordie this time. Elaine’s sitting between him and Bryce, which sucks, because Jared’s body really wants to lean right now, but he sits up straight instead, mostly listens to the conversation batted around, some of it retreads of stuff that was said when Gordie was in the kitchen.

Jared’s probably been too quiet to give much of an impression at all, let alone a good one, which he hates, but he’s not really a talker and everyone else was, well — Jared knows Bryce is more talkative when he’s comfortable, a smooth flow different than the rambling when he’s anxious, but _damn_ he can get going when he’s around family. It’s like a different Bryce entirely, another facet to add. Every time Jared thinks he has a firm grip on who exactly Bryce Marcus is, he realises he’s wrong. 

Bryce is quiet on the ride back, though, Elaine chattering away from behind the wheel as Jared droops against Bryce’s side, the small caffeine buzz long gone. 

They have a nightcap in the living room — well, it’s white wine spritzers again, but Elaine calls it a nightcap — before Elaine declares she’s tired with this bright, totally not tired at all voice, and Jared thinks she probably just took pity on him, because his droop has turned into a full on tilt.

“No PJs,” Jared says through a yawn when they’re in Bryce’s room.

“No PJs,” Bryce says, with a smile bordering on indulgent, which Jared thinks he should take offence to.

Too tired. It’s ridiculous, he did nothing but open presents and eat and talk to various Marcuses today, and it’s still early, but he’s exhausted. He does change into sweats and a t-shirt though, just to be like, respectful, though Bryce, in his underwear, is giving him a look for it. 

Bryce’s hands settle under his shirt, but not like, in a way that’s trying for anything, just seeking out skin. Which is good, because Jared’s seriously so tired. Also no way is he having sex when Elaine’s room is just down the hall.

“I hoped they liked me,” Jared says quietly.

“They loved you,” Bryce murmurs back.

Unless the Marcuses have like, a secret code language Jared doesn’t speak, Bryce can’t know that, but Jared wants that to be true.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Bryce says. “Next year we can do your family, maybe?”

“I have a truly ridiculous number of extended family,” Jared says, before realising Bryce probably just meant like, his immediate family.

Bryce is quiet for a moment. “Maybe next year we can do your family,” he says.

“Maybe,” Jared says, trying not to take it as a promise. There’s a freaking ‘maybe’ in it, it isn’t a promise. But the confidence that Bryce said ‘next year’ with, matter-of-fact about it, that felt like one. A good one. He’ll take that ‘next year’ as a promise, he thinks.


End file.
